


3:00 am

by NeverAndAlways



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Childbirth, Domestic John and Rodney, Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard Married, Waterbirth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-08 20:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: Sequel to 'I Love You, I Know' (http://archiveofourown.org/works/11771616/chapters/26538225)





	3:00 am

When Holly was born, Rodney swore up and down that they would  _not_ be having any more children. No way was he putting himself through that again. Not now, not ever, the end.

But then he and John started talking about it. And kept talking about it. And one thing led to another, decisions were made, and a month after Holly's first birthday, Rodney announced his second pregnancy.

It was a relatively easy nine months. He continued working right up until the last couple weeks, when low energy and frequent false contractions made everything a hassle. John has been just as worried as he was the first time. Rodney's more used to it all this time around, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't still nervous. In fact, he's scared to death, because this time he knows what's coming.

When he goes into labor at 40 weeks and six days, it's a huge relief. But it's also terrifying. That anticipatory dread is out in full force. John is so excited, though, and so happy; it reminds Rodney what the end goal is in all this.

John always has that effect on him. Like a compass.

 

* * *

 

Late afternoon in the infirmary;  Rodney's been in labor for several hours now. He's already rejected the 'scale of one to ten' ("It's manageable, Carson, that's all you need to know"). The contractions aren't restless, at least, but he sure is. At the moment, he's scooting slowly around the perimeter of the room on a commandeered office chair. He huffs and checks his watch.

"Where  _is_ he?"

Across the room, John fights the urge to roll his eyes. "Last I heard, he was finishing up in the gym. I'm sure he's on his way."

"That's what you said five minutes ago."

"He'll be here."

"Maybe he didn't get the message --"

Now John really does roll his eyes. "Rodney. Chill."

"I  _am_ chill," Rodney says petulantly. Then something across the room catches his eye. He levers himself out of the chair with surprising speed and hurries toward it. "Woah woah woah, where do you think you're going?"

Holly is standing in the doorway, poised to walk through to the other room. Rodney scoops her up. She whines loudly in protest, but he shakes his head and carries her back into the main room. "Nope, sorry." he plunks her down in the middle of the floor, facing the other way. "There. Go  _that_ way," he points, and returns to his chair as she goes stumping away on little bowed baby legs. Catching sight of John, she motors over to him and plants her hands on his knees with a triumphant, gummy smile. John feigns astonishment.

"Aah, you got me!" he picks her up, plants her on his knee, and starts to bounce her. Rodney checks his watch again.

"He should be here by now."

"Rodney..." his husband sighs. "Holly, tell your dad he needs to chill out."

"Da," says Holly, in a very authoritative way.

Rodney looks bemused. John just nods. "You heard her."

Rodney finally cracks a smile just as the infirmary doors swish open. In comes Ronon with his easy, loping stride, his dreads still damp from a shower. "Sorry 'm late," he rumbles.

"Took you long enough," says Rodney.

"Eeeee!" says Holly. John lowers her to the floor and turns her loose, and she makes a beeline for Ronon. The towering Satedan looks down at her and smiles.

"Hey, buddy." he crouches down to her level, and she immediately starts playing with his dreadlocks. At first glance, Ronon doesn't look like he'd be good with kids. And he usually isn't. But somehow he and Holly get along like a house on fire. She adores him, and he's pretty fond of her too. He's ended up being their go-to person to look after her when they can't. He scoops her up and holds her with one arm while she continues to investigate his hair.

"Everything's set up for you," says Rodney. "She's got snacks, and if you need anything, Teyla's --"

Ronon gently waves him into silence. "I got it, McKay. I know the drill."

"Right. Yes. Of course you do. I, uh...I guess we'll see you later, then?"

Ronon nods to them both. "Good luck."

"Thanks again, Ronon," says John. Ronon takes one of Holly's chubby hands in his own and waves goodbye with it. Then he turns around and lopes away out the door, talking quietly to her as he goes. The door swishes shut, leaving quiet behind him. The sounds of the infirmary fill in the gaps.

John turns to Rodney and finds him staring into the middle distance, cupping the lowest curve of his belly with one hand. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yes. Of course. Fine." he gives John a rather tight-lipped smile. "Time to get this show on the road?"

John stands up and stretches. "If you say so."

 

* * *

 

Rodney stares through the window from his hospital bed, watching a thunderstorm grumble and prowl around the shields' edge. They're a lot less intimidating from this distance, he thinks. Lightning flashes by the end of the pier; he starts to count.  _One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand..._

The sound of footsteps breaks his concentration: it's his husband, with a cup of water in each hand.

"Hey."

"Hi." John sits down on the bed and hands a cup to Rodney, who takes a few sips before losing interest. Thunder mutters in the distance, but Rodney's attention has already wandered. He gets out of bed to stretch his legs, and notices John looking pensive.

"Hey, anybody home?"

John blinks himself back into reality. "Sorry. Just thinking." Rodney makes an inquisitive noise, and he shrugs. "'bout Holly."

"I'm sure she and Ronon are having a great time," Rodney assures him. "You know how much she likes him."

"Yeah...I just wonder what she thinks is goin' on right now."

"She's two years old. She probably has no idea."

"You never know," John gives his husband a sly look. "she  _is_ your kid."

Rodney rolls his eyes fondly and turns away to put his cup on a nearby table. Then he pauses, as though struck by an idea. "Oh my god, what if she doesn't even miss us?"

"Don't start."

"No, I'm serious. What if she thinks we don't care about her anymore because we had another baby?" a look of wide-eyed distress crosses Rodney's face. John gets up from the bed, sets his cup of water on an equipment cart, and crowds himself -- gently -- into Rodney's space. He can tell when his husband is starting to spiral; he brings his hands to rest on Rodney's hipbones, drawing his attention back to the present.

"Rodney, stop," he says in an undertone. "Holly's fine. Like you said, she's too little to understand what's going on. She'll have such a good time with Ronon, she won't even realize anything's different. So let's cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? You just focus on this." he punctuates this last sentence by moving his hand to his husband's belly. Then it occurs to him, a little too late, that the muscles under his hand are tense. Rodney's eyes are closed tight. "Contraction?" John asks automatically. Rodney nods, short and sharp.

"My back," Rodney grimaces. He knocks John's hands out of the way and turns to lean on the table. "John --"

"'s okay. Just breathe, I got it." John presses the heels of his hands into the small of his husband's back and presses down, hard. Rodney draws a sharp breath, but leans back into the touch. So he continues, pushing the tension out of the muscles until Rodney finally relaxes. Then he waits to move until Rodney stands up straighter, flexes his hands and rolls his shoulders. "Is it just me, or was that one worse?"

"It's not just you," Rodney pants. "We should tell Carson." he grabs his cup of water and takes another sip.

"Tell me what?"

Carson is paused in mid-stride just outside his office. He looks at John and Rodney with a little trepidation. John gestures to Rodney.

"Contractions kicking up a notch."

"Oh, aye? That's good to hear." Carson takes a step into the room toward his patient, who's back to leaning on the table. "Rodney, d'you want me to start setting up the pool?"

At first, Rodney stares at Carson like he's speaking another language. Then he shakes his head as if to clear it and mutters, "Not...not yet."

Carson nods. "When you're ready, just let me know."

"Mm."

Carson disappears into his office again, leaving the pair alone. John leans on the table next to Rodney, mimicking his pose, and says gently, "Hey." his husband looks at him askance. "I meant what I said about Holly. She's gonna be fine."

Rodney sighs. Outside, lighting flashes in the distance. "God, I hope so."

 

* * *

 

"'Non."

Ugh, something's yanking on Ronon's dreadlocks. He bats it away and starts to doze again.

_"'Non."_

And it's back. Ronon waves his hand in his attacker's general direction. It can fuck off, whatever it is.

Then he wakes up the rest of the way. His eyes snap open. He's on the sofa in the main room of John and Rodney's quarters, and a teary-eyed Holly is standing in front of him. The toddler takes a shuddering breath and lets go of his dreadlock. Ronon sits up.

"Hey, what's wrong? What're you doin' up?" he glances at the clock; it's almost 10:00. She should be fast asleep.

"Da." Holly rubs her eyes and sniffles wetly. "Where Da?"

Uh-oh. "C'mon kiddo, we talked about this." Ronon hoists her up onto the sofa. "Your folks are busy right now."

"Wan' Da." Holly says morosely.

"I know. But they'll be back soon." she's not convinced. The little girl looks at Ronon, takes another shuddering breath, and starts to cry in earnest. "Oh my god. Don't do that, come on..." Ronon stands up and lifts her into his arms, then starts to wander toward her room. "Let's go. You're worn out, you should be in bed right now anyway."

Somehow, slowly, Ronon gets Holly back into her bed. Talking to her seems to help, so he keeps up a constant stream of conversation about whatever crosses his mind. Finally she's tucked in and quiet; as far as he can tell, she's asleep. Ronon pads back toward the door. Maybe he can get some sleep now, too.

"'Non?"

He sighs and turns around. "What's up?"

"'tay."

Ronon pauses. "Alright, sure." he pads back to the bed and sits on the floor next to it, his back to the wall. Looks like he'll be sleeping here tonight. "You gonna go to sleep now?"

Silence. He'll take that as a yes.

"'Night, kiddo."

It's twenty-five after ten now, though. Which makes...what, nine hours? If they haven't heard from John and Rodney by morning, he's going to have a panicky toddler to deal with. Maybe he should go to Teyla, after all...

Nine hours.

How long does it take to have a baby, anyway?

 

* * *

 

"Babe, come on. Carson and I will help you, but you gotta work with us."

"No, no no no, I _can't --"_

The birth pool sits ready in the middle of the room, inflated and filled with warm water. Rodney had intended to move to the pool half an hour ago, but the transition phase snuck up on him, and it's been brutal. Just staying ahead of the contractions is taking everything he's got. He's perched on the edge of a bed now, clutching the edge like it's the only thing keeping him on the ground. His belly sits low and heavy in his hips.

"Rodney." Carson moves into his field of view and keeps his voice steady and calm. "It's fine if you've changed your mind, but you need to tell us. Do you still want to use the pool?"

"Yes." just coming up with the answer seems to take a huge amount of concentration.

"Alright, then let's get you on your feet --" Carson starts to lift Rodney up with a hand under his arm, but Rodney swats him away.

" _Don't fucking move me,"_ he gasps. He sounds desperate.

"Well, you can't have it both ways." John makes an equally desparate attempt at a joke.

"It _hurts_."

"I know. I know it does, but the pool will help. How 'bout you stand up, for starters, and we'll go from there." as he talks, John hooks his hand under Rodney's arm and gently lifts. Carson does the same and before Rodney knows it, he's upright. He clings to John.

"Ow,  _ow, **ow**_ \--" he grits his teeth. Carson tries to keep him moving, but he hangs back. The contractions now are more like peaks in a near-constant stream, but when they hit, they hit hard. He plants his feet as another wave washes over him. John has to plant his feet as well, just to keep Rodney from unbalancing him. His husband has his shirt sleeve in a white-knuckle grip, and he's shaking so hard that he's barely staying upright himself. Once it subsides enough to be bearable, John urges him forward again.

It's a relatively short trip from the bed to the pool, but it's slow going. Rodney's feet don't seem to want to cooperate with his brain anymore. Every step is an effort. They make a momentary stop so he can kick off his sweatpants, then help him tackle the task of climbing into the pool. He lowers himself into the chest-deep water with a grateful sigh, and immediately pillows his head and arms on the edge to grab a moment's rest and regain his composure. John leans back and takes a few breaths. His own composure is hanging on by the skin of its teeth. Carson moves away to grab a supply cart.

"John?"

He almost doesn't recognize the voice as Rodney. It sounds so small and tired. He pulls himself together and wipes his eyes on the back of his hand.  _Since when does John Sheppard get misty-eyed?_

"Yeah?" dammit, his voice is cracking too.

"I don't think I can do this."

"Hey, none of that." John takes Rodney's hand in his own. "You've done it before, haven't you? And you're halfway done already. Just a little more to the finish line." he rubs his thumb back and forth over the back of Rodney's hand. Rodney says nothing, so John lets his gaze wander off across the infirmary. Through the window, he notices that the storm has cleared; a few shreds of cloud are all that's left of it. His husband moves slightly, drawing his attention back. He gives his hand a squeeze. "Is the water helping, at least?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Good."

Suddenly Rodney's grip tightens around his hand: the start of another peak. The tension spreads to Rodney's arms and shoulders, until he's almost lifting himself up out of the pool. John scoots closer to get his attention, remind him to breathe, and finds himself drawn into a tight and awkward hug. Rodney moans loudly into the crook of his neck. The sound turns into John's name, and it makes his heart clench up.

"Rodney, c'mon, you gotta relax. Please." snaking his hand out of Rodney's grasp, John moves it to his back. This seems to ground him; some of the tension goes out of his shoulders, although he still moans with every exhale. Carson moves into the picture, having discarded his coat and rolled up his sleeves. He reaches into the pool and presses his hands against Rodney's lower back, providing counter-pressure to the force of the contraction. Rodney presses back into it, hard, and the contraction doesn't stop.

John loses track of time after a while. It's harder to tell where the contractions start and where they end. But eventually he notices Rodney start to relax between them, more and more until he's almost limp in his arms. He's dozing. Carson notices too, and stands up; John doesn't want to move, but he catches the doctor's eye.

"What time is it?" he asks in an undertone. Carson checks his watch.

"2:45."

John sighs, and presses a kiss to the side of Rodney's neck. "You're doing great, McKay. Hang in there."

 

* * *

 

All told, Carson said the transition phase only lasted fifteen minutes after Rodney got into the water. Might as well have been fifteen years...anyway, he's calmer now. Quieter. Still hugging John over the rim of the pool. John doesn't want to move, and he probably couldn't if he tried. He sits and monitors contractions, measuring by the count of Rodney's hands clenching in his shirt. They're less violent now; Rodney's water broke a few contractions after he moved to the pool, and it seemed to signal a changing of gears. He shifts around more between contractions, and his movements are more purposeful. Rounding his back, spreading his knees apart. His body is doing half the work for him, bearing down on its own.

It's five after three when Rodney suddenly pulls away. He does it incrementally, like he's not sure he can support his own weight. There's a faraway look in his eyes.

"Rodney?" Carson crouches next to John.

Rodney's breathing hard. "I'm -- I have to push."

"Wait for the contraction," Carson reminds him; Rodney's already turning so he can brace his back on the wall of the pool.

"I know," snaps Rodney. Then he grimaces. "Oh my god. John --"

"I'm here, I gotcha." crowding into Rodney's space again, John hugs his husband from behind, and he's a little surprised when Rodney's hand comes up to grasp his wrist.

_...five, six, seven, eight, nine --_

"--ten. Good, just relax a moment." Carson takes a small gadget from his supply cart -- like a two-way radio with a microphone attached. Reaching into the water, he presses this microphone to Rodney's belly, and a staccato whooshing sound bursts from the little radio. He smiles. "Heartbeat's nice and strong. You're in no rush," he says as he puts the gadget away again. "An' you've been pushing for a while already, so it should be crowning soon."

Rodney doesn't answer. He pushes in silence until he has to come up for air, then exhales all in a rush. Then, angling his hips down so that his belly rises out of the water, he gets one last push in before the contraction ends.

John and Rodney both get lost to the rhythm of it. Rodney hums into each contraction as if to a very slow, tuneless song. Now and then Carson moves in with his microphone-radio gadget to check the baby's heartbeat. In between contractions, Rodney rocks his hips slowly from side to side, but otherwise he's calm. It's a stark contrast to the last few hours. Makes John wish they'd thought of this for Holly's birth. It would have made things so much easier.

"Slowly now," Carson coaches. "Pace yourself."

The calm is interrupted by the sound of Rodney's harsh breathing. It's taking tremendous concentration not to push with all his strength. His hand squeaks on the vinyl edge of the pool, looking for something to hang onto. His humming devolves into little shaky moans; he plunges his hand into the water and reaches down between his legs. A smile flashes briefly across his face.

"John," he chokes out.

"You're okay." John presses a kiss to his husband's temple. "Keep goin'." as the next contraction builds, Rodney cries out. It's an urgent sound that makes John's stomach turn.

"Alright, now push hard. One big push, then you can rest a bit." Carson again. He's put on gloves and is leaning over the edge, watching attentively. Rodney obeys, crying out through clenched teeth as he curls forward. His hand moves to the rim of the pool, hesitates, reaches down under the water again. His expression loosens; he lets out a quiet "oh". Another smile forms as he traces the baby's nose and ears and wispy hair. "There you are."

"Head's all the way out, Rodney, I can see it." John's voice is a little unsteady. He lights another kiss on Rodney's temple, and one more on his cheekbone. "'m so proud of you. You're doing so well."

Rodney doesn't answer. He's too busy catching his breath. His body seems to be resting as well; the contractions have paused, leaving him in limbo. He keeps himself still against the pool's edge, letting the warm water and John's arms hold him there. His breathing is slow and deep and almost normal. Taking advantage of the pause, he pulls his legs as far back as they'll go and lets them fall to the sides. His breathing quickens again into harsh panting, and the next contraction visibly works its way up and around his belly. He holds his breath and bears down; the baby turns, little by little.

"Push, Rodney, c'mon, you're almost there. Push hard."

Carson might as well be in the pool now. He's reaching into the water, poised to catch the baby even as he keeps a close eye on Rodney. And Rodney is already pushing again, determined to get this over with. John watches Carson reach down to ease the shoulders out; it occurs to him that he's holding his breath. And then --

"Rodney, give me your hands."

There's no hesitation. With John supporting him, Rodney leans forward and reaches both hands under the water. Time seems to slow, to stretch, just like it did at Holly's birth, and then Rodney lifts the newborn out of the water and up to his chest. He's laugh-crying, giddy with exhaustion and no small amount of hormones. John beams. The baby is a little smaller than Holly was, wrinkled, pale purple, and  _mad._ It starts to wail almost immediately.

"Time, 3:19 am," Carson announces.

"It's a boy," breathes Rodney. Carson grabs a towel and starts to rub the baby down almost roughly, making it wail even louder. Rodney nervously smooths down the baby's sparse hair. "He's blond." even through the blood and mess of birth, the baby's hair is faintly straw-colored. Like Jeannie, and like Rodney's mother.

"Oh my god," says John, for the third time. His husband cranes back to look at him.

"What, are you stuck on repeat?" the joke falls flat without its usual barbs. It goes over John's head anyway.

"Look at you." he reaches out to touch the tiny hand that's flopped against Rodney's shoulder. "Hi, Aiden. Welcome to Atlantis." then he lights another kiss on his husband's temple. "Rodney, he's amazing. You're both amazing."

"I know."

Carson's voice comes to them as if from a distance. "I hate to interrupt, but you might want to move to the bed soon. There's still the afterbirth to take care of, and you'll be more comfortable there."

"'K," says Rodney. He doesn't move. He's still too focused on the little human in his arms to be aware of much else. Only when Carson ties off the cord and moves in to cut it does he seem to take note. One quick snip, and they're free. Then the doctor holds out his hands.

"May I? I can give him a quick exam while you move to the bed." when Rodney balks, he adds, "I'll give him back."

So Rodney hands Aiden over to the doctor and, while Carson walks the baby over to an exam table, takes a moment to catch his breath. And another moment after that, when John helps him to his feet. John smiles his lopsided smile.

"You okay?"

Rodney answers with a smile of his own. "I don't know...I can't believe I just did that.  _Again."_

"I can."

Now Rodney scoffs. "Just help me out of here, would you?"

Climbing out of the pool is a little painful, and getting dried off takes longer than it probably should. And the delivery of the afterbirth is uncomfortable and just adds insult to injury. But then, when that's all said and done, Carson comes back with Aiden, and it's worth it all over again. The baby is clean, and swaddled in one of Holly's baby blankets -- his first hand-me-down. "There you go, wee man," Carson says to him as he hands him over. Rodney admires the newborn for a moment, then turns to his husband beside him. Looks at Aiden, then nods to John. John hesitates.

"You sure?"

"I want you to hold him."

And that's all the convincing it takes. John sits down on the edge of the bed, and Rodney leans forward -- gingerly -- to hand him the bundle of blankets. Muscle memory kicks in quickly; John cradles the newborn like a pro, holding him close to study his face. Aiden stares.

"Hey, little guy. It's your dad. Remember me?" the lopsided smile is back again. Rodney leans back into the pillows, happy to just watch until his gaze drifts to Dr. Beckett, standing by the door to give them some space. Sleep is already closing in; just mustering the right words takes some work.

"Carson?"

"Aye?"

"Could you, uh..." Rodney rubs his eyes.  _C'mon McKay, focus._ "Could you get a message to Ronon? Tell him...tell him what's happened?"

Carson nods. "Of course. Congratulations, Rodney. John." he gives the new parents a smile and retreats to his office.

Rodney doesn't say anything more. That last sentence seems to have taken all his remaining energy with it. So he lays there instead, drinking in the sight of his husband holding their newborn son. He thinks he might never get enough of it.

John Sheppard might not be good at voicing his emotions, but Rodney knows him well enough to read him. And right now, out of the dozens of emotions scrawled on his face, the clearest one is joy.

 

^^^^^^^

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!


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